


Disapproval

by byoomgothegunboi



Category: In the Heights - Miranda (Broadway Cast) RPF
Genre: AAAaaaaAAAAAAaaaAA, Coming Out, M/M, Pride, but accidentally, it is pride month my dudes, no it's not but go with it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-01
Updated: 2019-07-01
Packaged: 2020-05-16 21:11:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19326190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/byoomgothegunboi/pseuds/byoomgothegunboi
Summary: Pete gets a call from Aunt Karen, his suburban busybody aunt with some questions about his lifestyle choices.A lil something for Pride Month!





	Disapproval

**Author's Note:**

> I know, I know! It's officially July. But consider this: the LGBTQ+ community deserves more than a month to be celebrated. They deserve support and respect all frickin year long, and therefore it is JULY but we are STILL CELEBRATING OUR LGBTQ+ KINGS, QUEENS AND NON-GENDER-CONFORMING MONARCHS
> 
> so yeah. The fact that this is being posted in july has ABSOLUTELY NOTHING TO do with the fact that I was smacked in the face with work and ran out of days in June to post this. Completely ridiculous notion. No correlation at all.

It all started with a stupid kiss.

Okay, no, the kiss wasn’t stupid. Sonny had taken Pete to the Pride march in the city and it was actually pretty great. Surrounded by all sorts of people just like them, he’d felt an overwhelming sense of acceptance and, well, pride. He wasn’t an affectionate guy by any means, especially when other people were watching. Call it residual fear from his days in the streets when showing feelings was a sign of weakness, or the urge to protect Sonny from anyone and everyone who might be out to hurt him. In any case, the very idea of even kissing his boyfriend in public was a frightening prospect. But that day, with the love pouring in from all angles, Pete felt compelled to do exactly that. In front of God and everybody, he just… planted one on him. And instead of whatever reaction he was expecting, the people around him started cheering, like he was doing something right. It was happy and wonderful and exhilarating.

But anyway, one of the press workers in the crowd had gotten a shot of them together, almost too smiley to be really kissing. It was a great photo, actually. Which was what the two of them were thinking when they signed all the press clearance forms afterwards that said yeah, sure, do whatever you want with this photo. You wanna put it on your news website? Go for it. You wanna put it on this pride brochure and distribute it to every state in America? Hell yeah. They were lost in the moment having the time of their lives.

The moment lasted for a while, too. The people that they knew all told them they had seen the picture on a poster or something and they’d grin because that was them and they DID look fantastic, thank you very much. Usnavi printed it out and hung it in their apartment, which was a little embarrassing, but Pete appreciated the sentiment. Vanessa went around collecting all the pride brochures she could - with the two of them on the front page - and handed it out to everyone she knew. Pete even took a copy for himself because, yeah, he and Sonny were a national thing now.

This was the copy that was sitting on his kitchen table when the moment finally faded. The time was, unbeknownst to Pete, exactly six days to the minute the picture was taken. What he did know was that it was three fifty-eight pm. And he knew this because it displayed in chunky LED numbers when his home phone lit up, indicating a call from Aunt Karen.

Aunt Karen was Pete’s dad’s sister who had moved to Michigan on account of her husband’s job. She’s the kind of aunt that says “I remember you when you were *this* big” and pantomimes holding a potato, while you just smile and nod because you, in fact, do not remember when you were *that* big. She and Uncle Fred had left when Pete was seven, and since then, she called Pete’s dad every Sunday to catch up. When said man’s opioid addiction got out of hand and he sort of fell off the face of the earth, the Sunday calls were made instead to Pete himself. At this point, he was only a fifteen-year old kid who had all but forgotten what his aunt and uncle looked like, and simply referred to them as the ones who sent money on all the major holidays.

The problem with the current call coming through, however, was the fact that it was Saturday. Pete frowned at the ID, knowing that a call on such an unusual day had to have stemmed from unusual circumstances. His eyes fell upon the brochure sitting on his table, and his stomach dropped to his feet.

He and Sonny were a national thing now.

A dozen thoughts flew through his head at the same time. First, Aunt Karen’s side of the family would not be what one would consider an accepting bunch. They were very pleasant, he gave them that, but always wary of outsiders. Judgy, almost. Not the type of people to see one of their own on a Pride brochure and think, hey, I never knew he was like this, but that’s wonderful that he’s happy.

Second, there couldn’t have been a more blatant way to come out. You couldn’t have picked a single detail in the entire image that didn’t scream gay. Neither the pride flag painted on Pete’s cheek nor the identical one on Sonny’s bicep, nor the stripes of the transgender flag spray-painted on Sonny’s hat, nor the Pride march going on in the background, nor the fact that they were _kissing on the front cover of a Pride brochure_ , was very subtle. Which was the point, initially, but that decision seemed to be backfiring on him now.

Third, he wished Sonny was there with him. Partly because he wasn’t on this national brochure alone, yes, but more so because he needed moral support for the argument he was about to have. Sonny had a way of talking himself out of situations, and Pete needed to channel that ability, lest he find himself in the midst of a disastrous confrontation.

He picked up the phone.

“Hello?”

“Pete.” Aunt Karen’s voice was unmistakably stern.

“Hey, Aunt Karen!” he said, trying to keep his tone light and innocent. “What’s up?”

“I found a very… _interesting_ brochure at work today. I think you know which one I’m talking about.”

Pete’s eyes flitted to the brochure on his table and he cringed. “Yeah, I do,” he replied, dropping all pretenses of cheerfulness.

“I must say, I saw the picture and I’m very disappointed in you.”

Pete’s knuckles were white from gripping the phone. He swallowed down a lump in his throat and set his jaw, bracing himself for the lecture to come.

“Pete, why on _Earth_ didn’t you tell me you weren’t getting enough to eat?”

Pete paused, trying to comprehend the question.

“Wait, what?”

“I mean, look at you,” Aunt Karen continued. “No offense, but you look _dreadfully_ skinny. Are you sick at all? Have you just not been eating? Oh, god, you haven’t been wasting your money on this new vegan trend, have you? I thought you’d have better sense than that. If food claims to feed your chakras, nine times out of ten it’s doing jack-all for the rest of your body.”

“Uh- actually- I-” Pete stammered.

Aunt Karen, ever the chatterer, kept on talking. “I suppose it IS partly our fault for not checking in on you more. Every Sunday you say, yeah, you’re fine, but who are we to believe an eighteen-year-old kid?”

Pete felt like he had whiplash from the wild direction this conversation had gone. “I-”

“Well, regardless, dear, we’ve sent you a package of some good, wholesome food. I know you used to love those brownies when you were little, so there’s some of that in there plus a new cookie recipe I’ve been trying lately. Do eat it, you need some meat on those bones.”

Pete felt his mouth opening and closing, but no words were coming out.

“Thank you,” he finally blurted.

“Of course. And about that boy you’re with… what’s his name?”

“Um… Sonny?”

“Sonny! What a lovely name. I assume you’re romantically involved with him?”

Pete swallowed. “Uh… yes?”

“Hm. Well I must admit I’m a little affronted you’ve never mentioned him before now. Do send me his address, and I’ll send him a fresh batch of brownies, too. He deserves my thanks for making you look so happy. I mean, just look at this picture. It’s lovely, really. Besides the fact that you look positively emaciated.”

Pete looked down at his legs. He thought he’d always been rather lean. Sure, he’d skipped a meal or two to ensure he had enough to cover his rent, especially in the winter when it was too cold to take commissions, but he wasn’t starving or anything like that.

“I’m- uh- well-” he stammered, at a loss for words, but Aunt Karen filled the silence for him.

“I’ve got to say, this is going to be wonderful for our neighborhood, too. All these PTA members up and down our street going on and on about how their daughters made the honor roll or whatnot, I can’t _wait_ to see the look on their faces when I casually mention our nephew is on the cover of a national Pride brochure. Oh, Debra, your cousin meeting Jennifer Lawrence’s step-brother-in-law isn’t so important _now,_ is it?”

Aunt Karen gave a delighted chuckle. Pete barely heard it; he was too busy pondering the state of his existence.

“But on a more serious note, I was delighted to see your picture this morning. You’ve grown so much. I remember when you were just the height of our old dining table, running around with your crayon, marking up the walls. You would barely ever say a word to any of us. And now look at you, all grown up, happy as a lark for the whole world to see. I’m so proud of you, Pete. You’re really becoming a man. I mean - gosh, I guess, you are one, now, aren’t you?”

“I… yeah,” he managed, suddenly finding words to be stuck in his throat.

“My, my,” Aunt Karen mused. “Although I’m sure you’ve grown up quickly, what with all that’s happened to your father… Pete, I suppose your uncle and I haven’t made it clear enough, but if you ever need anything, even just to talk, we are always just a phone call away. We may seem far, but we’re your family, dear, and we love you.”

Pete swallowed hard. An odd feeling had begun to form in his chest. It was warm and fuzzy and… comforting. It was comforting to know he was loved.

“Love you too, Aunt Karen.”

“Well, I’ve got to get going. Susan’s putting the green bin out on the curb again. For heaven’s sake, how many times do I have to tell her? Green bins are on _Tuesday._ One would think that if everyone ELSE had their BLUE bins out- well, sorry, dear, this doesn’t concern you, does it? I’ll call you again tomorrow, at the usual time. I want to hear all about this boyfriend of yours.”

“So you don’t mind?” Pete finally blurted.

“Mind what?”

“That I’m gay?”

Aunt Karen chuckled. “Oh, heavens, no. If I’d tried to judge someone based on who they chose to love, I’d be as much of a stone-headed dolt as- _Susan!_ SUSAN! YOU CAN’T PUT YOUR BIN BEHIND YOUR SON’S CAR, THEY WON’T PICK IT UP- oh, Christ, she can’t hear me, she must be listening to that murder podcast of hers again. I’ve got to go, Pete, I’ll talk to you tomorrow. SUSAN! PARKING YOUR BMW IN FRONT OF THE FIRE HYDRANT IS ONE THING-”

There was a click and the phone line went silent.

Pete took the phone from his ear and stared at it. He rubbed the back of his neck, letting the conversation echo back through his head.

Still in a bit of a daze, he turned to the dining table and looked at the brochure. Then back at the phone. Then back at the brochure.

He looked back at the phone, dialed a number and put it back on his ear.

It rang three times before someone picked up. “You’ve reached Casa De la Vega.”

“Sonny?”

“Yeah?”

He paused.

“...Do you think I look skinny?”

**Author's Note:**

> We all need an Aunt Karen. Hell, I'll be your Aunt Karen if you need one.


End file.
